


Scream if You Want

by Miistical



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time writing Smut, M/M, Naga, Probably the last time, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tomarry Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 17:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miistical/pseuds/Miistical
Summary: Harry's eyes were closed, chest heaving, lips slick with spit and sweat. A squeeze at Harry's windpipe had his eyes snapping back open. "Now, now Harry, don't fall asleep. I haven't had your mouth yet."





	Scream if You Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peixe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peixe/gifts).



> This is for Peixe in the Tomarry Discord server! I... tried. Hope it's not as bad as I think it is!

The systematic hacking of Harry's blade was a soothing sound in the otherwise uncomfortable forest. The heat was somewhat oppressive and the many insects that lived in the trees never ceased their screaming. The rough pummel of the machete caught at Harry's calluses and he again regretted venturing to Brazil. The Amazon Rainforest was gorgeous and filled with a kind of wild magic unheard of in England but the price of not using magic within it was too steep to pay at high noon.   
  
Sweat trickled down Harry's spine. "Bloody hell, Ron, Charlie better be the happiest bastard on the planet after this," Harry muttered to himself as he cut down another branch.  
  
Harry couldn't quite believe that he had agreed to travel all the way to Brazil for a rare plant breed. He knew that Charlie couldn't make it himself and that his dragons needed it in their healing salves - besides the fact that  _only Charlie_ used this particular plant - but that didn't make him any less exasperated about the situation. Still, a promise was a promise, and so Harry would do his best to help out the family that had practically adopted him.  
  
At the thought, Harry took a second for himself. He gulped down a few deep breaths, his aching feet happy for a bit of rest, and lowered his knife. Unsuccessfully shaking the tension out of his shoulders, Harry reached into a pocket and pulled out a ripped piece of parchment. Ron's nearly illegible scrawl seemed even more unreadable in the sunlight and Harry squinted, trying to make out the words he knew were there. Amusement crooked his mouth into a grin as he shook his head—he remembered something about a cave and that was about as far as he was going to get with Ron's handwriting.  
  
Parchment shoved back into his pocket, Harry let his wand spin and easily followed it forward. Harry gently tucked his wand back into its holster and readied his grip on the knife. He huffed and mumbled, "The shit I do for you, Ron."  
  
The calm swipes of the blade helped alleviate his exasperation and Harry only had to spend a few more minutes before the trees began to thin out. All around him was a calm green, so unlike the Slytherin green back home, and in the middle of the lush leaves was the cave he had been searching for. It had been well hidden, Harry had to admit, but the subtle tracking charm had done its job. He had been warned that certain types of magic might not work this far in the forest, so Harry hoped to be in and out as fast as possible.  
  
His relief would be short lived.  
  
Harry strode into the entry of the cave, his strides long and quick. He sat his bag down in the lip of the cave along with his machete. Harry rolled his shoulders and glanced around, caught by the shine of the rock. He walked further into the cave, his head swiveling back and forth. Bio-luminescent veins stretched throughout the ceiling and down the walls, their thin fingers lighting up the cave in a soft glow. No plants to be found but Harry kept going. Strangely enough, there was a pool of water 40 feet in, the water completely blacked out.  
  
Caution and curiosity fought viciously over how Harry should approach the small lake. In the end curiosity managed to nudge caution out of the way and Harry knelt at the edge, hands braced where the water gently lapped at his fingertips. But the moment his eyes focused beyond the surface, Harry yelled and fell back.  
  
"Holy fuck!" Harry was quick to crawl back. From inside the water rose the face he had seen. Pure white skin stretched taunt against bone split into a savage smile, blood red eyes boring into him. The creature's arms gripped the ground as it pulled itself up, the rest of its body a deep green.  
  
 _'A naga. A bloody_ naga _,'_ Harry thought.  _'I'm fucked.'_  
  
With the naga now completely out of the pool, Harry noted that it was a fully grown male—he could hear Hermione's voice in the back of his head: "territorial on good days and...  _murderous_ on the bad; hopefully you won't run into one". Harry gulped and tried to take a calming breath but the laser focus the naga had on him made breathing difficult.   
  
The skeletal beast straightened to tower far above Harry and cocked his head. "Now what do we have here?" he hissed, his voice high and soft.  
  
Harry cleared his throat. "H-hello. My name is Harry Potter and I'm just here to gather some plants. I didn't mean to disturb you." Sweat beaded at the nape of his neck and rolled down his back like oil.   
  
The naga's tongue flickered out, its forked tongue sending another shiver down Harry's spine, and slithered forward a foot. "You're quite a ways away from home, little wizard."  
  
"Again, I'm really sorry for disturbing you," Harry said with a steadiness he did not feel, his back flush with the wall. "If you'll allow me to leave, I'll—"  
  
"Now who says I want you to leave?" The naga coiled his tail in a whip of scales. Before Harry could scramble out of the way, the male sprung forward and pinned Harry against the floor. "It's been quite a while since anyone was foolish enough to come into Voldemort's nest."  
  
His tongue flickered over Harry's cheeks. Harry shivered and twisted, trying with futile effort to reach his wand. In a flash, the naga clenched a hand on his wrists, wood and bone creaking at the force. Voldemort leaned forward, his warm breath hitting Harry's ear.   
  
Harry had enough pride to fill a room but he couldn't feel an ounce of it as he begged, "Please, I'm very sorry, please let me leave."  
  
" _No._ "  
  
The hands that had been on his wrists flew up to his waist and suddenly Harry was flying. He hit the floor and went rolling but managed to straighten. In the throw his wand had spun away from him. The wizard braced himself when Voldemort went to lunge again, this time rolling beneath him; he didn't make it five feet before his tail came to life and flicked Harry back into the wall.  
  
Harry grunted as the rocks tore through his clothing. Before he could even get to his knees, Voldemort was pressing the length of their bodies together: thigh to hip to chest.   
  
Voldemort caught Harry's chin with his thumb and forefinger, the rest of his fingers playing along his jawline. His other hand lightly raked his sharp nails through Harry's hair, sending a wave of pleasure into the pit of his stomach. The younger man bit the inside of his cheek, hoping to stave off any gasps.  
  
Just because Harry didn't let himself be heard didn't mean Voldemort couldn't smell it.  
  
"It's been so long since a warm body had ventured here and your scent is  _delicious_ ," he hissed out.  
  
Harry only had enough time for fear to replace pleasure before Voldemort slotted his mouth over his. Harry froze and choked out a moan, his eyes sliding closed for a single second before his mind woke up and he surged against the naga's body. His fuzzy head was working against him and his struggles were weak and seemed to amuse Voldemort more than anything else.  
  
The slick tail swung forward, deftly wrapping around Harry's hips and waist until he was propped up on nothing but the naga's own chest. The tail tightened and brought him in close before slamming him into the wall, his legs jerked apart far enough for Voldemort to settle comfortably between them.  
  
Pain flashed through Harry's head, cutting through his daze, and he started to thrash in earnest. Amusement now gone, Voldemort narrowed his eyes and curled a hand around his throat, another at his wrist. Both gave a light squeeze as he cooed mockingly, "Now now, Harry, be a good boy and hold still."  
  
With the reminder that he was helpless, Harry locked his muscles completely. As if he were a pet who just performed a spectacular trick, Voldemort said, "What a  _good boy_  you are."  
  
Harry leveled the naga with a glare and a snarl nearly made it past his lips. Voldemort ignored both and leaned forward to mouth at his cheekbone. This time he skipped over Harry's mouth and flicked his tongue against the skin of his jaw and throat. Voldemort bit down at the tender flesh of his neck and Harry's mind was begging to see it as a sign of endearment rather than the threat it was.  
  
While Voldemort licked and sucked at Harry's neck and collarbones, Harry tightened his mental shields until no air could get in. A creature's magic was inherently different from a wizard's but Harry just needed to buy enough time and clarity to run.  
  
Harry was snapped back into the naga treating his body like food with the sound of his shirt ripping. He gasped and clenched his teeth, trying to not let Voldemort notice his clearing mind. His chest heaved and he screwed his eyes shut.  
  
Voldemort apparently didn't mind his suddenly mute captive. Instead he was eerily focused on running his nails down Harry's chest, their sharp points leaving behind red lines and tiny pricks of blood.  
  
Harry let his body go limp and Voldemort hissed his triumph. He took plenty of time licking at the droplets of blood that ran down Harry's stomach, Harry's muscles spasming at his deft lick. In one fluid movement, Voldemort tucked his hands beneath Harry's waistband and ripped it straight down the seam. Harry jerked, legs coming up on instinct to cover himself, but Voldemort was already biting him in retaliation. He straddled the delicate line between pleasure and pain and Harry keened.  
  
Finally done teasing the wizard, Voldemort grabbed Harry by his waist and pulled him into his chest. They pushed off the wall and Voldemort's tail wrapped around Harry's squirming body, the younger lightly groaning from the pressure.  
  
Tail firmly around Harry, Voldemort allowed his hands to wander down to Harry's thighs, spreading them. The haze from earlier had settled at the edges of Harry's mind but he swallowed his bile and kept it at bay. As long as he could hold it off before it consumed him, he could still get out before he was ultimately killed.  
  
Harry's thoughts were snatched as Voldemort ran a nail up his flushed cock, his body still responsive underneath the ministrations. He arched, a reedy cry pushing past his lips. Voldemort, voice laden with satisfaction, said, "So sensitive."  
  
A strangled noise was his only answer.  
  
"Oh, don't worry, Harry. You'll get what you want."  
  
Harry tried to not scream when he felt Voldemort undulate above him. He knew the best way to escape was to stay a prisoner for a while longer but the Gryffindor (and the  _human_ ) in him roared for him to struggle and fight. Fortunately his distraction allowed his body to not betray him and Voldemort continued to rise. The naga flipped Harry over and braced his hands on his hips, fingers digging into all the cuts and bruises.   
  
His cock unsheathed from its slit, his natural lubricant already drenching it. He clenched his hands and filled Harry up in one push. Harry cried out, hands desperately searching for something to anchor himself from the pain, only for his scream to cut off from a burst of pleasure. His forehead hit the ground and he moaned at the heavy weight on his prostate.   
  
Voldemort pulled out and slammed back in, Harry's body heat sending him growling. He fucked into Harry with no mercy, Harry's voice rising in octaves at the burn with every thrust. Voldemort's nails had already pierced his skin, blood running down in thin rivulets.  
  
It didn't take long for Voldemort to slam in one last time, coming deep in Harry's unwilling body. At the feeling, Harry's eyes rolled back and his entire body shook as his own orgasm washed over him. He slumped down, hot tears of anger and shame rolling down his cheeks, his stomach roiling as he tried to process what just happened to him.  
  
Unknowing of Harry's thoughts, Voldemort smoothly pulled out, his tail loosening its hold. His come dripped down the back of Harry's thighs and he took in the sight with greedy eyes. Body coiling back beneath him, Voldemort yanked Harry back over on his back. His hands ran up his torso until one circled his throat in a light grip, the other back in his hair.  
  
Harry's eyes were closed, chest heaving, lips slick with spit and sweat. A squeeze at Harry's windpipe had his eyes snapping back open. "Now, now Harry, don't fall asleep. I haven't had your mouth yet."  
  
Hands moving back to his hips, Voldemort leaned back enough for Harry to watch as his second cock pushed through. Voldemort eyed it before dragging them up back to Harry's. "Sad that I can't use them at once, don't you agree?"  
  
Harry's body tensed all at once and his eyes sharpened in hate. " _No,_ " he spat before kicking Voldemort in his cock.   
  
Voldemort howled as backed up, his eyes slits as he hissed. Harry was already moving before Voldemort could lunge, a rock in both hand. He slammed one into Voldemort's head and the other one was thrown at his face while Harry crawled as fast as he could.  
  
The wizard's hand slammed down on a familiar piece of wood right before Voldemort caught hold of his ankle. Wand now firmly in hand, Harry was all too happy to slam his disgust through its core, his emotions powering a wordless spell.  
  
The naga flew back into the pool he had climbed out of and Harry quickly froze it, hoping it'd give him enough time to escape the cave. He rose on his knees and summoned his clothing to him. With quick cleaning and repairing charms, Harry managed to empty himself of Voldemort's seed and slip his previously ruined clothing back on.  
  
A crack alerted Harry to the ice splintering. Harry leaned back against the wall and used it as a crutch, hobbling over to the entrance as fast as he could. The ice shattered just as Harry saw his bag and the machete right next to it. Lunging for the weapon, Harry raised it just as Voldemort rose from the depths of his temporary prison. With a menacing grin, Harry waved the blade in a mockery of a goodbye and swiped his wand downward, the ceiling he had thought so beautiful before crashing down.  
  
Harry waited in tense silence before finally sagging against the lip of the cave in relief. He felt empty and cold, his skin itching as if it didn't feel right. Harry gathered his bag back up and staggered out of the cave and into the forest, his previous path still easily available. The overarching sun hadn't budged at all while he was inside and Harry couldn't tell if time had moved at all.  
  
He knew he would need help and probably a stay at the local hospital but all Harry could do was limp through the cut leaves and hope he didn't pass out before then.  
  
And if the resounding screams of an enraged naga tugged his lips into a cracked smile, no one was around to see.


End file.
